Dolce Propuestas
by OwlinAMinor
Summary: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. And then again. And again. Spamano.


**Title: _Dolce Propuestas_**

**Pairing: Spamano**

**Genre: Romance & Friendship**

**Summary: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. And then again. And again.**

**Rating: T**

**AU: Is it a human AU? Or is it not? I honestly don't know. You decide.**

**Length: Oneshot, around 2k**

**Dissing of the Claims: Hetalia does not belong to me, and it's probably best for everyone involved if we keep it that way.**

**A/N: So my friend asked me to write her some cute, fluffy Spamano, preferably with an established relationship. I was going through my old rough drafts (back from the good old days when I only wrote Hetalia) and found this. I'm not sure I fulfilled the prompt entirely, but hey, at least it has a cute ending.**

* * *

**(I.)**

It isn't really a conscious decision.

They're in the kitchen, and it's late at night on a Thursday with work tomorrow but no desire to sleep. Lovino got up to fix himself some hot cocoa and Antonio followed, hanging onto his fragile warmth.

A song comes on the radio – the words don't matter, just that the tune is soft and slow, the padding of stockinged feet or the falling of snow or the first fireflies dancing in the twilight. Antonio pulls Lovino close, ignoring all protests (he knows they're false, savors the bright color of Lovino's face and the shape of his eyes barely holding back.)

And they dance, sway, breathe, Lovino's arms around Antonio's back and Antonio's lips against Lovino's neck, humming a melody into his skin. Lovino laughs, tickled by the vibration, and they are a cocoon of warmth, their own mini-sun.

"Marry me," Antonio murmurs, just the tiniest press of vowels and consonants but they fall so heavy on Lovino's ears.

He becomes ice, or perhaps even stone, face smoothed into the harsh shell of reality.

"Shit," Lovino whispers.

And he escapes – accelerating drumbeat stretching father and farther away, leaving Antonio hollow and wanting.

**(II.)**

They don't mention it, by unspoken agreement, but that doesn't stop Antonio _thinking_ about it. Of course he wants Lovino to marry him – spending the rest of his life with an absence of feisty Italian is unfathomable – he's just never put much thought into it before now. But now, the issue has arisen, almost of its own accord, and Antonio's mind is constantly returning to it, a dog chasing its tail.

Propose to Lovino. Ask Lovino to marry him. Convince him that he's serious, he won't ever change his mind – Lovino can say yes.

So Antonio does the cliche, romantic thing. He makes reservations at the fanciest restaurant in town, arranges for a ring in the champagne. There are candles, of course – a soft glow that illuminates Lovino's face, his laugh, right up until the point when he notices the ring.

And then he solidifies – statues usually can't move but this one can, this one can run away.

**(III.)**

They hike to the top of a small mountain, just because they can. (Well, maybe not so much just because they can as because Ludwig told Lovino he was out of shape, and Lovino does not take kindly to insults.)

It takes them four hours and a hell of a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, but they make it. The view is amazing, with valleys and lakes and rivers stretched out below them like a patchwork quilt of green and brown and blue. Lovino lets in a sharp intake of breath, marveling at how small everything looks – feeling like a giant.

Antonio spends precious moments marveling at Lovino, and then gets down on one knee in the dirt.

"Lovino Vargas, will you –"

Lovi's gone before Antonio can even finish the question, crushing Antonio under his hiking boot like an ant.

**(IV.)**

It's karaoke night at the best bar in the city, so of course everyone they know is there.

Halfway through the night, Antonio seizes the mike, sings the most romantic song he can think of, looks right at Lovino the entire time. Lovino watches with a soft smile on his face, a smile that tugs at Antonio's heart and gives him hope.

But the moment Antonio finishes – the moment he starts to explain – the moment the crowd hushes, everyone holding their breath – Lovino is out the door, halfway down the street.

**(V.)**

For Lovino's birthday, Antonio wraps his present very carefully. There is a very small box, inside a less small box, inside a less small box, inside a huge box, each box wrapped individually in bright red paper.

Antonio's heart threatens to leap right out of his chest as Lovino tears away the wrapping paper on each layer, finally reaching the tiny box at the bottom.

There are three stages of facial expressions as Lovino stares at the ring: first shock, then anger, and then finally something Antonio can't quite place. He puts the box down very carefully on the table, stands up slowly, and walks right past Antonio to lock himself in the bathroom.

He doesn't come out for hours.

**(VI.)**

Antonio takes Lovino to the street corner where they first kissed. It's raining and they lost their umbrella weeks ago, but he figures, well. What the hell. It'll make it more romantic.

So Antonio feels like a wet dog as he brushes rain out of his eyes and shakes his brown curls, reaching into a pocket well-worn with use. Lovino's figure is blurry in the rain, but not any less beautiful. How he doesn't see that, Antonio has no idea.

"You're beautiful," he says, bending to the rain-splattered sidewalk with determination in his emerald eyes.

And Lovino's eyes are wet (but not with rain) as he backs away.

**(interlude)**

"Guys, I don't know what to do. I've asked him six times already, and he still hasn't said yes."

"And you aren't going to give up, are you, _Antoine_?"

"There's no way. I could never give up on Lovi."

"You said he 'hasn't said yes.' So he hasn't technically said no?"

"Well, I think he's afraid to say yes ... Like, he still doesn't trust me, or he still doesn't trust himself. He always runs away when I start to ask him."

"Then maybe you should ask him somewhere he can't run away, so he has to give you a straight answer."

**(VII.)**

They go canoeing one afternoon in late summer, when the lake is still and the sun is hanging just barely below the center of the sky. After paddling into the middle of the lake, they let the boat drift, choosing to lean back on the ends of the boat and close their eyes, letting the afternoon sun bathe them in warmth.

Antonio touches Lovino on the shoulder ever so slightly, to get his attention, and then kneels down in the center of the boat, very careful not to let it wobble.

"Lovino –"

And Lovino leans, tips, jumps into the lake.

Antonio pockets the ring and offers Lovino a hand back into the boat.

**(VIII.)**

It's not that Antonio loses confidence – it's just that, well, he's starting to wonder if it's worth it. Maybe it would be better to leave things as they are, not making the commitment that Lovino's so afraid of.

But then, he catches Lovino dancing by himself early one morning, singing along to some rock song on the radio, and he decides that it's worth it. Of course it's worth it.

He leaves a note on the refrigerator – words spelled out in those dumb letter magnets made for young children just barely learning how to read.

And, well, maybe Lovino can't read basic English, because he ignores it. Avoids the entire refrigerator. After a week, Antonio takes it down.

**(IX.)**

Antonio rents a motorbike – a Vespa, best one on the market – and lets Lovino drive it to one of the biggest parks in town, one with benches and fields and forests and a playground. They have a picnic in the shade of an oak tree, with tomatoes and all other manner of good food, and then Antonio leads Lovino by the hand to the swing set, old and rickety but still letting children believe they can fly.

Antonio believes maybe, maybe this time, he can fly too – right up until the moment when Lovino leaves the swing still wavering, gets back on that Vespa and drives home, leaving Antonio stranded.

**(X.)**

Lovino comes home from work one day to a quiet house – quiet, dark, still. Antonio waits patiently in their bedroom, and the moment Lovino opens the door to their bedroom, he breaks out the guitar – watches Lovino has he notices the flowers, the candles, the brilliance Antonio has created, just for him.

Antonio watches Lovino spend a moment just looking at everything – and Antonio wonders what he's thinking. Does he realize what – who – all of this is for? Does he realize how loved he is?

Apparently not, because he turns and walks right back out of the apartment.

**(XI.)**

It's late and the bedroom is dark – practically pitch black, with the only light coming through a faint crack in the door. Antonio takes up most of the bed, with his limbs sprawled everywhere like a rag doll. Lovino is curled into his chest, breathing in time with the faint thump-thump of his heartbeat.

"You know, I really do want to marry you," Antonio says, whisper-quiet and yet so loud in the absence of light.

Lovino doesn't say anything – just sighs and turns his head to the mattress, muffling the world.

"I just don't know," Antonio continues, emboldened by Lovino's failure to flee. "I don't know what I can do to convince you that I'm not ever going to hurt you. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, Lovi – really, you are, and I can't believe that you don't realize it. I'd do anything for you, but I don't know what else to do. I'm lost. You have to help me, or give me a clue, or something.

"Just ... Marry me, Lovi. Please. Won't you?"

It's silent for a long time, silent but for two hearts beating in the darkness.

Lovino flips over onto his back – grabs Antonio's hand and presses a kiss to his palm, slow and soft.

"Silly bastard," he murmurs. "_Idiota_."

It's still not a no, but Antonio is more confused than before.

**(XII.)**

Antonio wakes up to breakfast in bed – tomatoes and churros and coffee, all hand-delivered by his favorite person in the entire world. He's not entirely sure what's going on, but he likes it.

And then Lovino starts grasping at bedsheets, not looking Antonio in the eyes, and fumbling for words. Little words, but beautiful words – words that pluck at Antonio's heartstrings and make him want to sing like a bird on a clear, spring morning. He has to pinch himself, make sure he's not dreaming.

Which is when Lovino pulls out a ring.

"Antonio, you make me happy. And I want to make you happy. I promise I'll do my best to make you as happy as you make me, for as damned close to forever as we can get. Will you marry me?"

Antonio doesn't even have to say the word – his smile does that for him.

(And later, he'll say that word, say it a thousand times, say it in wonder and in happiness and in amazement. He'll keep saying it, right up until, "You may kiss the groom.")


End file.
